


a lion sleeps (not in the jungle, but in a crib)

by xdandelionxbloomx



Series: They Were Roommates! [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, a soft and tender moment in a roommate au, hi im not dead just depressed and overwhelmed lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:42:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28660407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xdandelionxbloomx/pseuds/xdandelionxbloomx
Summary: Ciri was crying.Ciri was crying and Geralt didn’t know what to do.Ciri was crying and Geralt didn’t know what to do and it was killing him.He’d tried everything - changing her diaper, giving her that ratty little lion cub stuffy, he’d even tried to feed her but she hadn’t wanted it.Geralt was very near the end of his rope.Jaskier arrived home to the mess - Geralt absolutely frazzled and close to tears himself, Ciri wailing on his lap as he sat slumped on the couch.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: They Were Roommates! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100426
Comments: 30
Kudos: 367





	a lion sleeps (not in the jungle, but in a crib)

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in a long time because I've been tired and overwhelmed and grieving, but here is a small thing that came to me when I listened to the song - Meow Meow Lullaby by Nada Surf.

Ciri was crying. 

Ciri was crying and Geralt didn’t know what to do. 

Ciri was crying and Geralt didn’t know what to do and it was _killing_ him. 

He’d tried everything - changing her diaper, giving her that ratty little lion cub stuffy, he’d even tried to feed her but she hadn’t _wanted_ it. 

Geralt was very near the end of his rope. 

Jaskier arrived home to the mess - Geralt absolutely frazzled and close to tears himself, Ciri wailing on his lap as he sat slumped on the couch. 

His roommate’s eyes went soft in that way Geralt had come to hate for how it made all his organs do strange things in his chest. 

“Oh, Geralt. Come on.” Jaskier picked his way across the apartment, avoiding some of Ciri’s toys - being a sudden single father hadn’t been easy on Geralt and he was doing his _best_ alright? 

Jaskier, with his guitar case still slung over his back, gently scooped Ciri out of his hands. He lifted her and Ciri momentarily stopped crying at the sight of him, reaching a pudgy little hand out to touch his cheek. She reeled it back after only a second, though, and turned it to a tiny fist that smacked with considerable force against Jaskier’s jaw. He barely even showed his grimace, still smiling at her as he cooed. 

“Someone’s grumpy.” Jaskier murmured, and Geralt had a violent flashback to a few months prior - to when he’d gotten absolutely smashed and Jaskier had come to wake him up the day after, all soft and haloed by sunlight, hair gone gold. 

Geralt lifted a hand to drag it down his face. 

“I don’t know what she wants.” He rumbled, exhausted. 

Jaskier shot him a small smile, something sad buried in it - he’d worn it before, an expression linked to things Geralt didn’t fully know. 

He had never asked, never wanted that sadness to be so overwhelming that Jaskier couldn’t bear it. 

“Sometimes we just need to cry, my dear.” Jaskier said, easily, and shifted Ciri to one arm, offering his freed hand up. 

Geralt took it, letting him pull him to his feet and grabbing the lion stuffed animal as an afterthought. 

Together they walked to Geralt’s bedroom where Ciri’s crib was set up across the room from his bed. It had been painstakingly made by hand by Eskel, who would have adopted Ciri if Geralt hadn’t been first in line as her godfather. 

“It helps, however-” Jaskier spoke again as he let go of Geralt’s hand - Geralt giving a small jolt as he realized they’d held hands all the way into the bedroom. “To have music. Always.” Jaskier half said it to Ciri alone as he lowered her into the crib. Geralt watched how she squirmed, fighting him until she could stand in the crib, teary eyes peering over the edge as her hands curled around the railing. 

Jaskier walked over to the bed and perched himself on the edge, ignoring her as she wailed even louder, making Geralt flinch. 

“Come.” Jaskier said, over the crying, patting the space beside him. Geralt reluctantly joined him, sitting down beside his roommate on his bed, hands clenched around the lion cub white knuckle, one the verge of tears again himself. 

Jaskier, the calmest of the three of them bless the man, simply brought his guitar case around to take the instrument out, plucking a few strings and tuning by ear. As if he even really needed to. 

He looked up, meeting Ciri’s eyes over the edge of the crib. “Sweetheart.” Jaskier kept repeating it until she sucked in a ragged breath, wailing quieted to sniffles as Jaskier plucked out a soft melody that made the knot between Geralt’s shoulders slowly start to loosen. 

Geralt breathed. 

Jaskier began to sing in the quiet, his voice a bit higher and softer than usual. 

_“[Meow-meow meow-meow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PsJUjpEBM-o) meow meow…” _It was a soft thing and Geralt blinked. He turned his gaze down to the lion cub in his hands and then back to Jaskier in surprise. Blue met his own hazel and they smiled softly, even though Jaskier’s mouth was occupied. 

_“I am just a kitten, hardly fit my mittens…”_ Jaskier’s gaze drifted back to Ciri, who was now firmly focused on the two of them, crying dying out into little snuffles, her nose stopped up from her fit. A little gurgle as she swayed where she was standing. 

_“Much too small, I figure-”_ Jaskier tipped his head at her, a lock of chestnut hair falling into his face. Geralt’s fingers itched to reach out and brush it away. He watched Jaskier’s profile in the dim yellow light of the lamp he’d left on - Geralt knew it wasn’t exactly platonic to want to touch his fingers to the curve of Jaskier’s nose, to trace it down to the bow of his lips. 

_“One day I'll be bigger, one day I'll be a great big kitty cat - Use open windows to go from flat to flat…”_

Ciri’s hands slipped from the railing and she landed on her rear with a soft thump. She sniffed and blinked bleary eyes at Jaskier. After a long moment Geralt stood to cross the room. He brushed his fingers over the top of her head gently, feeling the wispy blonde strands soft under his work worn hands. He didn’t think these hands were the ones she deserved, but they were the ones she had and so Geralt _had_ to be good. For her. He moved to place the lion cub stuffy in her small - so small - arms, watching her immediately bring it close and latch her mouth onto the ear. She chewed on it, looking at Jaskier all the while, barely even sparing him a glance. 

“ _I am just a kitten, hardly fit my mittens… Much too small, I figure.”_ Jaskier sang and Geralt turned to watch him, the way he swayed back and forth on the bed and watched Ciri right back. 

It was a lot like peace. 

Geralt wanted to bottle this moment - like the little ships frozen meticulously in time, waves suspended in motion. He wanted to be able to look at this any time he wanted. He wanted to be able to - 

_“One day I'll be bigger, one day I’ll be all grown up and strong - But ‘til then I'll just purr and sing along.”_ Jaskier cooed and Geralt turned his gaze back to Ciri, who had laid back on her back, watching him drowsily through the bars of the crib. The lion was tucked close to her chest and Geralt’s heart _ached_. 

He loved her. 

He loved her probably more than anything else in the world. 

It was not something Geralt had ever anticipated. 

Then again, he’d never anticipated Jaskier either. 

Geralt turned to make his way back to the bed, settling himself down beside Jaskier, watching talented fingers slow dance over the strings, plucking the sweet melody long after Jaskier had stopped singing, humming instead. 

Geralt dropped his head down to rest on Jaskier’s shoulder. 

He could feel Jaskier tense, heard the twang of a string, surprised fingers slipping. Geralt didn’t bother to say anything for a few moments and Jaskier’s fingers resumed the same soft melody. 

Geralt closed his eyes. 

“It’s funny. I think she likes you better than me.” He whispered, at last. A soft shudder beneath his cheek told him that Jaskier had laughed one of those quiet ones, lips pulled into a crooked smile. 

“No.” Jaskier whispered right back, shifting to adjust to Geralt’s weight against his side. He crossed his arms over the guitar, finally ceasing his playing and Geralt, with his heart in his throat moved to slide his arm around his waist. 

“No, I may distract her from whatever upset her, but when she’s hungry she turns to you. When she falls, her eyes find you first. Given the choice between the two of us, I’m sure she’d ask _you_ to pick her up.” Jaskier’s voice stayed hushed as he turned his head to press his nose to Geralt’s hair - half fallen out of the hectic bun he’d thrown it up into earlier. 

Geralt wanted to keep this moment forever. 

“I’m trying so hard, Jask, but I have no idea what I’m doing.” He admitted and Jaskier’s shoulder shuddered under him again, though he heard the laugh this time. 

“Does anyone? Really?” Jaskier asked, and there was a press of lips to his temple. “You’re trying your best and that’s all you can do. Ever.” The shoulder under his cheek lifted and Geralt made a soft noise of complaint, though he lifted his head and opened his eyes. 

Jaskier was-- _looking_ at him. 

Really _looking_. 

Like he could see right through to Geralt’s heart, where he kept all the things he cared about held tightly, as if he could shelter them from the world by not _talking_ about them. 

Jaskier’s hands blindly leaned the guitar up against the bed like he’d donen it a thousand times - probably had - and one reached after, to brush Geralt’s hair back from his face. He tucked it behind Geralt’s ear in a gesture that shouldn’t feel so intimate and _tender_ , but did. 

Geralt blinked, lowered his gaze to the collar of Jaskier’s shirt - where, as usual, the first three buttons were undone. 

He’d had _thoughts_ about that before, but in that moment all he wanted to do was bury his face against warm skin, breathe in the smell of Jaskier’s honeysuckle perfume. 

“It’ll be alright, Geralt.” Jaskier murmured and, to Geralt’s surprise, he _believed_ him. 

A trembling sigh through his nose and Geralt lifted his gaze to meet Jaskier’s. 

Ciri snored softly, disturbing the quiet, and Geralt _smiled_ , shaking his head. He looked away from Jaskier for a moment, at the far wall above the crib. 

His brows furrowed and a touch between them smoothed out the expression, Geralt’s gaze back on Jaskier, on the way the edges of his hair went gold. 

Geralt didn’t believe in God or Heaven or Hell - but there were moments like these where he wondered if Jaskier were an angel. 

Kindness, goodness, an overwhelming brightness given human form for minds to process. 

Geralt lifted his hand, catching Jaskier’s in his own. 

It was to the soundtrack of Ciri’s soft snoring that Geralt kissed Jaskier for the first time - slow and delicate, trying to hold the moment as one might hold a butterfly-- 

Trying his very best not to break quivering wings, heart poised to fly away, carried by a breeze, lazily drifting towards honeysuckles that it could not resist.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also xdandelionxbloomx on tumblr if you want to come scream at me! This drabble will be posted there as well.


End file.
